Damage Control
by Upsgirl88
Summary: This fic is a re-write of Daryl's scenes from Inmates, Still and Alone to show how things would have been different if Carol was with him. These episodes were difficult for many Carylers, not only because Carol wasn't there but because Daryl was very OOC. I hope to rectify that and indulge my fellow Carylers with a taste of what we would have preferred to happen.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: I know many Caryl fans were very disappointed by Daryl's OOC behaviour in the back half of season 4. I believe it stemmed from pairing him with Beth and I still have hope it was meant to show us that Carol brings out the best in him. I decided to rectify the situation by giving you what I feel would have happened if he was paired with Carol for the back half. I'm trying to stick fairly closely to the plot, but there are obviously things that never would have happened without Beth there, so those will disappear. I may use direct dialogue from the script in parts and then change up the rest. I hope I can do this justice and bring you guys the Daryl we know and love.**

**So just to set the scene for you... I don't plan on revisiting anything with the murders or banishment. For this to work the banishment never happened, so I won't get into any of that stuff. This basically starts where Daryl found Beth and said they need to leave, but it was Carol he found instead.**

.~.~.~.~.

"We gotta go Carol. We gotta go." She heard his voice and knew he was right, but her eyes scanned the devastation one last time, looking for others, Lizzie and Mika in particular.

"The girls..." she said, looking at him for help. When she met his eyes, her heart ached. He didn't think they survived. And looking around her, at the war zone, she wasn't sure either.

Daryl touched her shoulder, "Come on."

Carol nodded and followed him. There were walkers everywhere. Their home was destroyed, for nothing. Those who wanted it were likely dead. And even if they weren't, no one could live there now anyway. She forced herself to not look back as they ran. Instead she went to a place in her mind and thought about a moment she had experienced, not all that long ago, when times were happy and hopeful, when they first found the prison and settled down.

_Hey beautiful. I know it's been a while and I'm going to be honest, it hurt too much to think about you. But I have never forgot about you, not for one second. Though you're always in the back of my mind, I didn't have the strength to talk to you. For that, I'm sorry. I never had much good to tell you anyway, not until recently. After everything that happened on the farm we were always moving. But something happened. Something good. Finally. We found a prison. The group, the only family I have now, we all think we can make this place a home._

They ran from the prison yard into the surrounding woods. The walkers were on high alert, stumbling in all directions. There were so many of them. Carol was breathing hard but they couldn't stop. They had to keep going. She had a gun in one hand and her knife in the other, ready to attack.

_Some of the others think we can grow crops in the yards. Maybe find some pigs, chickens, finally stop running, stop scavenging. Lori's baby is due soon. Did you even know she was expecting? Carl's going to have a brother or a sister. That's something I always wished I could have given you someday. Lori will need a safe place when the baby comes. You can't be on the road with a newborn, you just can't._

Suddenly they were surrounded by walkers. Carol lifted her gun to shoot, but realized it was going to just attract more of them and lifted her knife instead. Just as she was about to stab a bolt flew through the head of the walker she was reaching for. Daryl had already taken down 2 others. She shot him a look that said thank you, but at the same time he needed to know she could have taken care of herself. She would have taken the walker down without his help. Just to prove her point she attacked the next closest walker and dropped it with one swift stab.

Carol stepped on the walker's head and yanked out her knife, wiped it off and they took off again. Her legs were aching but she pushed harder, faster, running for her life.

_I think the rest of us just need a safe place to be. To find ourselves, our humanity, once again. I woke up in my own bed yesterday, in my own room. It's been a lifetime since I've had that kind of privacy. Even before all of this, I was never alone. I always had you, or your daddy. I haven't allowed myself to unpack yet though. I know I'm not the only one. We are so used to running everyone has stuff ready to go if something happens. It's hard to get my hopes up when I've been faced with nothing but loss for years. You're my biggest loss though. Nothing will ever compare to losing you. But I talked to Hershel the other day, he's a smart man, you would have loved him. He said something that really struck me, he said if you don't have hope, what's the point of living?_

They emerged from the forest into a field. Carol couldn't breathe, she had to stop, just for a second. She took a look behind her, she could see them in the forest, they had to get farther away or they would keep following. She nodded at Daryl and they kept going. Running. It always came down to running.

_You know what I did after that talk? I finally unpacked my bag and made my cell feel like home. My home. When I was emptying it out I found your pony tail holder. The pink one with the rainbow attached, your favourite. I decided that I needed to start talking to you. I finally have good things to tell you Sophia. I really think we can live here. For the rest of our lives. And since you're always with me, this is your home too. I hope you like it. I miss you but we're together, here in this safe place. Forever. I love you Princess._

Carol stumbled, she couldn't take another step. She doubled over, struggling for air. The sweat was dripping from her forehead and trickling down her back. She sunk to her knees, watching as Daryl entered into a similar state right beside her. Exhaustion took over and they both collapsed onto their backs in the long grass.

Just when Carol was sure her lungs were going to explode and she would die right there in that field, two things happened. Daryl's hand brushed hers, reminding her she wasn't alone. And a voice whispered sweet words from somewhere up above, "Mama, mama, I love you. Just breathe."


	2. Chapter 2

At some point in the night they finally stopped moving and sat down to rest. Carol built a small fire for a bit of warmth. After running and sweating all day in the heat they were both chilled by the time the sun went down. They had to keep the fire small to avoid attracting walkers so her and Daryl sat on opposite sides of the flames, close to the heat.

She looked at him, his face lit by the flickering camp fire and her heart sunk. Carol hadn't seen that kind of emptiness in his eyes since they realized the search for Sophia was over. That was the first time he had a purpose - a mission, which ended in tragedy. And here they were again. She knew exactly what Daryl was thinking. He believed the rest were dead. Their entire family – gone.

Neither one of them had spoken a word in hours. They were tired, but couldn't sleep. They were hungry. And they were alone, just the two of them. Carol believed, though they may have lost people they cared about, there was no way that everyone except them had died. She saw Michonne escape captivity in the commotion after Hershel was murdered. Michonne was tough, she was a warrior. Carol believed Michonne had survived. And Rick. He would do anything to protect his family. Carol was sure him and Carl were alive somewhere, hopefully with Judith as well. She had heard the story of how Tyreese was swarmed by walkers and fought his way out. Tyreese was alive too. Carol knew they had family out there somewhere, but how would they find each other again?

She studied Daryl's face. He was staring at the fire, zoned out, lost somewhere in his mind. Carol needed to snap him out of the trance before he sunk too deep into himself for even her to bring him back. "Hey, we should do something, don't you think?" she said, softly at first. "We should do something," she repeated, a little louder. "We aren't the only survivors," Carol added, which finally caught his attention. "You know how strong our friends are. We've made it through so much. This is no different." Daryl continued to look at her so Carol kept talking. "Remember when we were run off the farm? We lost people that night, but others survived. Even Andrea, when we all figured she was dead." She saw his face soften, just slightly, as she triggered memories in him. "We all found each other once. We'll do it again." Carol stood up, "But sitting here moping isn't going to help."

Carol knew that Daryl would feel better once he had a focus. If she could get him tracking, hunting, anything, he would get out of his head, at least for a little while. She pulled her knife out of the sheathe attached to her belt. "Let's go," she said, in a commanding tone that told him she was serious. Carol wasn't sure if she had ever used that tone with him before, but it was effective. Daryl stood and started to kick dirt onto the fire to put it out.

She turned and headed off into the woods, knowing he would be following close behind. They wandered back towards the prison as the sun started to rise, to try to track some of the others. Carol didn't really know what she was looking for, but she kept her eyes peeled for anything that looked out of place. She stopped as Daryl bent down and brushed some leaves away to reveal the mud underneath. There were prints. Small foot prints. Carol looked at him, "Luke maybe? Or Molly?" She knew they could have been Mika's as well, but couldn't bring herself to say her name. They were too small to be Lizzie's, which gave Carol a little comfort, knowing the sisters would likely be together. "Maybe this means they're still alive," she said, trying to be hopeful.

"It means they were alive 4-5 hours ago," Daryl grumbled.

Carol shot him a look, but didn't push. If he needed to be pessimistic right then she would let him, for now. She would deal with his mood later. Daryl continued to look around and he pointed to an area to their right, "They picked up the pace right here. Got out in a hurry. Things went bad."

"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith," Carol muttered.

She wasn't really talking to him, but he snapped at her in reply. "Hershel had faith, look where he ended up." Carol knew he could have easily picked a different scenario to throw at her. She had spent time in a church and prayed while they were searching for Sophia. At least he had enough concern for her feelings to not hurl that at her too.

Carol spotted a bush with some berries and started to pick them, ignoring him for a minute. When she had a handful she spoke, "they will be hungry when we find them." Daryl sighed, but handed her his handkerchief to wrap the berries in. She knew she was being optimistic, even though her heart told her he was right, at least in this situation. As hard as she had tried to teach the kids about knives and protecting themselves, if those were indeed Molly and Luke's foot prints chances were slim they escaped alone.

Daryl pointed at a bush and spoke. She detected a hint of apology in his words, "That ain't walker blood. The trail keeps going." He took a few steps and looked back at her. Carol saw a hint of sadness in his eyes, which at least meant he felt something, which was comforting. "Got walker tracks all up and down here, at least a dozen of them."

Carol heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. She readjusted the knife in her hand and spun, just as a walker attacked her. Carol shoved the body hard, but the walker came at her again. She twisted, trying to get around his flailing arms and stab his head. The walker was too close for Daryl to shoot. Even though he had deadly aim, it was too big of a risk with the struggle going on. Carol shoved the walker again and when he came at her this time she was ready. Her knife entered his head through the temple, just as Daryl finally made it to her side and grabbed the Walker's arms, holding them out of the way. Blood spurted out as she withdrew the knife. Daryl let go and the body slumped immediately to the ground.

Carol bent and wiped the knife on the ground. She was about to put it away, but thought better of it. There were likely more walkers, best to be ready. Daryl followed the trail he had found and they moved to the edge of the woods, emerging into a clearing where the train tracks came through. Her stomach lurched when she saw the scene before them. There were walkers, several of them, on their knees, munching on the carcasses of bodies on the ground. It was impossible to tell at that point who, or even how many bodies they were ravaging.

They moved closer and Daryl put a bolt through the nearest walker. Carol used her knife on the next one as Daryl shot two more. She sat on her haunches, trying to find air as Daryl retrieved his bolts. Carol saw a tiny shoe on the ground. It was a shoe she recognized. A shoe she had seen every week at Story Time. "Luke," she whispered gently. "You're in a better place sweet boy."

Carol scanned the scene, trying to figure out who the other bodies might be, looking for clues. She couldn't find anything else that might help. She had to assume at least one of the others was Molly - the other set of foot prints they had found. Lizzie was strong, Carol had made sure of that. There was still a chance she was alive. Mika too. When she looked at Daryl's face she knew he didn't believe it, but he didn't even think the strongest survived.

Carol stood. She wanted to pause there for a minute and cry. Just let it all out. But she knew it was pointless. They had to keep going if they had any hopes of finding the others. People could be moving in all directions so they needed to find trails, before they went cold.

They searched for hours and found nothing. Carol wasn't sure if she was happy or disappointed. No news was good news. At least they hadn't found any more bodies. But she knew Daryl was an expert tracker and if any of the others had come through there he would have found evidence.

They came upon an abandoned camp site just off the edge of the road. Carol was exhausted and knew Daryl had to be just as tired, dusk was quickly approaching and they had been awake for well over 30 hours by that point. There was a car parked there and random stuff scattered around. They both remembered what it was like to scavenge and started picking through the goods. Carol opened the car door and peeked inside, looking for anything of value.

Suddenly they heard walkers heading towards them. Carol jumped out of the car and looked off into the distance, she could see the herd. It was huge. Daryl popped open the trunk of the car and motioned. She jumped in and he followed, pulling it closed and using a piece of cord he had found to tie it shut. There was a slight gap and Carol looked out, watching the walkers get closer. They were loud, hungry, agitated. Her heart was pounding, even though she knew they were safe inside the trunk.

Time passed slowly. It was cramped and hot and she had no idea how long it would be before the herd left. Carol knew the walkers could likely smell them and they would stick around a while before finally giving up. It was already dark and they still remained, milling around, grunting, and stumbling.

Daryl nudged her. "Sleep," he whispered. She nodded and tried to adjust her position to get comfortable enough to nod off. After she wriggled around for a few minutes he nudged her again and motioned towards himself. Was he actually offering for her to lean on him and sleep? She stared at him for a minute. As close as they had become over the years they were still pretty inexperienced with physical contact. Carol shifted and tentatively leaned against his chest. After a few minutes she settled, but noticed he didn't seem sure where to put his arm and hand. Carol reached for his hand and set it comfortably on her hip. When he didn't move it right away she smiled and closed her eyes.

Who would have thought she would spend a night snuggled up with Daryl in the trunk of a car? In different circumstances it could have been very romantic. But it wasn't. It was comforting though. And Carol knew they both needed the comfort. Between the exhaustion and the easy up and down of his chest she was fast asleep in minutes.

At some point during the night she woke. Daryl was fast asleep, his head leaning on the top of hers. Carol could still see out the slit and noticed the walkers were gone. She took a deep breath and tried to go back to sleep, not wanting to wake him even though the coast was clear.

_Hey Sophia. I know you're with me, I feel you here. We're not going to die, not yet. We're going to survive this. We will find the others. And even if we don't, we have each other. The three of us will survive. Together. _


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning when they climbed out of the trunk Daryl didn't say much, other than to quickly let her know he was going hunting. She didn't argue. Carol was starving and she had to pee. Two good reasons for him to leave her alone for a while.

She had noticed that his mood was still quite dour. Not that she was surprised, Daryl had spent many years of his life brooding. It was an acquired skill and it was going to take a lot of effort on her part to snap him out of it. She had done it once, and would do it again. Carol knew the circumstances were different this time. Daryl had lost Merle and that was hard on him. Merle was the only blood he'd had left. And she knew, from what others had told her, that he was pretty upset when he thought she had died. But now Daryl believed that, other than her, he had lost his entire family. A group of people he had been through so much with. A group that had accepted him as one of their own. A group that made him feel worthwhile and loved. That wasn't easy for a man like Daryl to find. And even harder for him to accept.

But he had accepted it, finally. Carol smiled at the memories of a more relaxed and easy going Daryl. He had stepped up and assumed a leadership role. People respected him and they followed. She knew how much that meant to him, whether he would ever admit it or not. Those kind of memories were what made it even harder for her to see the look on his face now. The sense of loss mirrored her exact feelings when she lost Sophia. But she had survived and even allowed herself to be happy after a while. He would too. Carol was determined to make sure they found everyone who survived. And if there truly was no one else, though she didn't believe that for a second, she would make sure they found a new family. It would never, ever replace those they lost, but in time she would see the real Daryl emerge from that shell again. Her Daryl was in there, she just needed to bring him out.

Carol busied herself making a fire. She knew Daryl would return with food, he always did. There was a need inside him to take care of people. And that need was a huge part of his mood. Carol knew he felt like he let the others down. He would always believe there was more he could have done. She only hoped that someday, if it ended up they were all that was left, it would be enough that he had saved her. He always saved her. Carol could only pray that he wouldn't live to regret his need to keep her safe.

She kept the fire lit, but low, waiting for his return as her stomach growled. Carol pulled out her knife when she heard rustling from the bushes. She put it back when she realized it was him, with food.

Breakfast turned out to be a giant rattle snake. Carol had eaten a lot of wild meat that Ed had brought home from hunting trips, deer, rabbit, wild turkey, even raccoon meat once (which was quite gross) but she had never tried snake. Her stomach turned slightly at the sight of the limp creature in Daryl's hands but she had only gratitude for his effort and made sure he knew.

"Let me," she said with a smile, pulling out her knife again and taking the snake from him. "I've never done one of these before," she added.

Daryl instructed her on exactly how to prepare the meat and 10 minutes later they were roasting pieces of snake over the fire. Carol was quite surprised at how good it tasted. Kind of a combination of chicken and alligator meat. She ate, careful to avoid the bones, until her stomach couldn't handle anymore. By the time she was finished Daryl had already been done a few minutes and was sipping water from the only bottle they had. He noticed her looking at him and put the lid on tight, then tossed it to her. She actually hadn't been asking him to share at all, but when she took a sip she realized how thirsty she really was. Carol had to force herself to only drink a little. They needed to conserve it until they were able to find a water source, or more bottles.

As she tightened the cap herself Carol took another peek over at Daryl. He was staring into the fire, in that same trance and she knew they needed to get moving again. "Let's go," she said, standing up. Carol started to put out the fire and Daryl glared at her. "Come on, we need to keep looking, trying to track the others."

"We looked all day yesterday and found nothing," he replied angrily. "There's no tracks to be found, get that through your head."

Carol took a deep breath to calm herself. Yelling back at him wasn't going to get her anywhere. It was just going to make his mood even worse. If that was possible. She decided to take a different approach. "Well then let's go scavenge. We're almost out of water and we need to start gathering supplies to help us survive." She finished kicking dirt over the flames and stomped a bit on the fire pit, just to be sure she had put it out. If there was even a spark left it could catch and set the entire woods on fire. There hadn't been much rain lately and the dry leaves and twigs would start up easily. "Come on, let's go."

Daryl still didn't move so she grabbed her things and turned to leave. She figured he would follow but she was a ways from the campsite and she didn't see him behind her. Suddenly she was surrounded by 4 walkers. "Oh shit," Carol muttered, drawing her knife and lunging for the first one. She dropped it, but the others were closing in on her. She stabbed another but her knife dropped with it as the walker fell to ground. There was no way she had time to get it out. The only option she had left was the gun in her waistband. Just as she reached for it a bolt slammed in to the closest walker. Carol dodged before it fell into her and was able to lunge for her knife. Another bolt hit the last walker, but Daryl missed the head and the walker was on top of her, just as she got the knife out. The mouth was heading right at her face when Carol twisted and stabbed it right between its eyes. She grunted as the dead weight landed on top of her, blood dripping onto her shirt.

Daryl pulled the walker off her and offered a hand to help her up. "Thanks," she said, jumping up gracefully back onto her feet. "I could have…" she started.

"I know," Daryl interrupted.

Carol was going to explain that she could have taken care of herself but immediately felt bad. She reminded herself that a huge part of what Daryl was going through had to do with taking care of people. In some strange way it could have helped his mood, just a little tiny bit, to rescue her. On the other hand, it was also a reminder of losing the others all over again, so perhaps it had actually made things even worse.

She knew when he led her back to the camp site and sat down that she had indeed made things worse. But she was also getting frustrated and couldn't hold back her anger any more. "You brought me back here? Why? Are we just going to build another fire and sit here wallowing? Stare into the flames until we die of thirst or starvation?" Carol had been biting her tongue for a long time and she couldn't hold back at that point, even if she wanted to. "If you want to stay here, fine. But I'm going. I'm going to find supplies and then I'm going to find our friends. I won't give up Daryl. I won't."

Carol chose a different direction this time and took off. She stomped angrily but the anger faded when she peek back over her shoulder and noticed he was following, closely, this time. Score one for Team Carol, she thought, allowing herself a tiny smile.

When they emerged from the woods they stepped onto the fairway of a golf course. The grass was unkempt obviously, but you could still tell it was a golf course. She could see the flag for the hole they were on still in the cup on the green. "There's gotta be a clubhouse," Carol said. "Let's go check it out." They followed the fairway to the green and then to the next hole. It was hole 8, which meant that the end of the next hole was likely near the club house. They walked to the tee blocks of the 9th hole and Carol could see the club house in the distance. She felt hopeful as they got closer.

They entered through the front doors, on high alert. There were walkers hanging from the ceiling in the main room. People who had checked out. Given up. Carol understood it, but it also annoyed her deeply when she fought so hard to survive and others just took the easy way. Part of her wanted to cut them down and end their suffering for good, but a bigger part of her decided that just leaving them there would satisfy her annoyance.

When they were confident the area was clear Carol headed off on her own to search for anything worthwhile, while Daryl went in another direction. She was up on a stool digging through a kitchen closet when she heard a walker approaching, quickly. Carol had a bottle of olive oil in her hand. She jumped down and smashed the bottle on the door frame, then used the broken jagged edges of glass to stab at the walker. She was struggling. It was a lot more difficult than using a knife, but she had to act quickly. With one final stab she killed the walker, but at the same time the remaining bottle shattered and sliced her palm open.

Carol squealed at the sting in her hand. It wasn't very deep, but it was bleeding and felt like a razor cut. Daryl appeared and rushed to her. He grabbed her hand and wrapped it tightly with his bandana. There was a chance her hand was contaminated with walker blood. She wasn't concerned about turning, but she was worried about infection. Obviously Daryl had the same thought. "It needs to be cleaned. Maybe we can find some alcohol around here."

They headed for the bar area and started to search. The patrons had obviously drank up most everything before they decided to hang themselves. There were glasses all over with little remnants of various drinks, but no way to tell exactly what was in them. Carol found a bottle under the bar and pulled it out. "Peach schnapps?" she handed it over to Daryl. "I wouldn't mind drinking it," she added. "But I'm not sure it's the best to cleanse a wound."

Daryl took the bottle and shattered it on the floor. "That shit ain't good for neither," he muttered. "Let's go."

"One sec," she ran back to the other room and grabbed a couple of brand new golf shirts and stuffed them in a bag. "Okay, ready." Carol followed him out of the country club. His step had more of a purpose and she felt a slight sense of relief. It was at least a step in the right direction. Carol had no idea where they were going, but Daryl seemed to. She thought about the peach schnapps she could have drank, but she didn't feel any sense of loss. Even if it was just smashing a bottle at least Daryl was showing a little passion for something. And once again, he was taking care of her. Carol smiled again, confident her bad luck, though causing a painful throb in her hand, was going to be just the catalyst she needed to get Daryl back on track.


	4. Chapter 4

"In all the conversations we've had, you've never told me what you did before all of this?" Carol said, trying to distract Daryl, and get him to open up a bit. They were walking through the woods again, and she still had no idea where they were going. "I know Zach was guessing, did he ever get it right?"

"It doesn't matter, hasn't mattered for a long time," he grumbled.

Carol decided not to press. It was obviously something he didn't want to talk about, for one reason or another, and she could respect that. One day he would open up and tell her, on his own accord.

She could see a cabin, up ahead. "Is that where we're going?" she asked, pointing.

"Yeah, found this place with Michonne." Carol noticed a slight inflection when he said the name. She knew they had become close and it obviously hurt him to even speak her name. If Carol could only get him to believe there was a chance Michonne, and the others, were still alive.

"I was expecting a liquor store," Carol joked.

"This is better," Daryl replied, "Come on." He led her inside, checking quickly for walkers, then pointing at a bunch of mason jars on the table.

"No way," Carol muttered. "Is that moonshine?" Daryl looked surprised that she knew what it was. "Ed attempted to make it a few times. Never turned out that great, but it was drinkable."

Daryl grabbed a jar and unscrewed the lid. "Want a sip first? Might burn like hell when I pour this on your hand."

"It's been a while," Carol muttered. "But why not?" She lifted the jar to her lips and took a small drink. She immediately coughed and gasped as the liquor slid down her throat leaving a fiery trail in its wake. "Holy crap," she sputtered. "This is definitely the good stuff." The first sip was always the worst, but even her second drink left her almost breathless. The moonshine was definitely potent with an extremely high alcohol content. She felt her insides warming almost instantly and handed him back the jar. Carol unwrapped her hand and held it out to him. "Ready," she said, sucking in a breath and waiting for the sting.

Daryl slowly poured a bit of Moonshine on her palm and Carol bit the inside of her lip to keep from cursing. She resisted the urge to pull her hand away and shake off the burning sensation. He poured a bit more and Carol cringed. She was trying really hard not to act like a wuss, but it stung, badly. "Almost done," he said, trying to soothe her. Carol appreciated his attempt so much that it actually worked and she felt better. Daryl pulled a roll of gauze out of his pocket. "Found this even before you sliced yourself up, knew it would come in handy." He wrapped her hand up and finally the pain started to subside, though her palm still throbbed. She took the jar from his hand and downed another drink. "Might wanna slow down," Daryl warned.

Carol lifted another jar off the table and handed it to him. "Here, this one's for you." They were safely inside a cabin, the sun would be going down soon, and she was running out of ideas to loosen him up. Carol figured maybe the alcohol would do the trick.

"No, I'm good," Daryl said, waving it off.

"Why?" she asked. Carol knew from their time at the CDC and another time at the prison when they had found some wine on a run, that Daryl enjoyed a drink now and again. "We're safe in here," she said, assuming he was thinking about making sure one of them were sober enough to protect them.

Reluctantly he accepted the jar and took a drink. Carol noticed he didn't wince at all, even with the initial burn. That told her he must have had a lot of experience with moonshine or something similarly harsh. Carol took another drink and started to wander around the cabin while Daryl made himself comfortable on the couch. She picked up a God awful pink bra planter in the corner. "Oh my God, Ed came home with one of these once," she laughed. "I threw it out, the first chance I got. I mean, who walks into a store and says, yeah I'm going to spend money on that, right there."

"My old man would of. He was a dumbass," Daryl said gruffly. "He'd put that on top the TV and use it for target practice."

Carol's smile widened. He was talking about his dad, that was a start at least. "He shot things inside the house?" she asked, hoping he would continue.

"It was just a bunch of junk anyway, that's how I knew what this place was. That shed out there, my dad, he had a place just like this. You got your dumpster chair," Daryl pointed at a rough looking chair on the other side of the room. "That's for sitting in all summer drinking. Got your fancy buckets," he gestured again. "That's for spitting chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smoking."

A walker growled somewhere outside, interrupting Daryl. "Want me to get it?" Carol asked. She was feeling the effects of the alcohol, but was pretty confident she could handle a lone walker.

"Nah, unless it gets too noisy," Daryl replied with a shake of his head.

Carol picked up a map sitting on a table. It was a map of Florida. "I always wanted to travel," she said. He had clammed up so she figured maybe if she kept talking he might chime in at some point. "But I've never been out of Georgia," she said with a laugh. "There are so many things I've never done. Never went on a real vacation or honeymoon. Never took Sophia camping. Never been hunting…" she added, looking at him and hoping for a reaction. "Wanna know something I've never told you?" Daryl looked up, but didn't speak. "In high school I was on the archery team," she laughed. "Only girl on the team. I was pretty good too." She looked at him and noticed he had perked up enough to indicate he was listening. "I've never shot a cross bow before," she said, gesturing at his weapon, "but I was damn good with a recurve." Carol continued, "Ed had a compound for bow hunting. I begged him to take me but he said hunting was for men. My job was to cook and clean and make him happy." Carol paused for a minute. "Asshole," she added.

There were a few moments of silence as Carol continued looking around the room, before finally taking a seat on the couch beside him. He was doing it again. Zoning out. Carol wasn't going to let that happen. A little liquid courage was making her pushier than she would normally have been. "Don't do that," she said. The edginess of her voice made him snap to attention and glare at her. She returned the glare. Carol did not back down to any one anymore. She had a lifetime too much of that. "Just talk to me Daryl," she urged him.

"Talk about what?" he asked icily. "You wanna know all the things I've never done?" his voice got louder. "Never tried frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony. Never got a fucking thing from Santa Claus. Never relied on anyone for protection before," he added a jab at her. "Never relied on anyone for anything." Daryl stood up. "I have to piss and it sounds like our buddy is calling his friends out there." He picked up his crossbow and thrust it at her. "Never shot one before? Let's go," he grabbed her wrist roughly.

Carol's eyes flashed with anger as she wrenched her wrist away from him and yanked the crossbow out of his hands. No man would ever lay a hand on her, not even a drunk Daryl Dixon. "Don't ever do that again," she warned. His face distorted quickly as he realized what he had done. She knew he was sorry, and that was enough. She brushed angrily past him and headed outside. He was close behind, watching as she got the crossbow ready, ignoring her sore hand, the way she'd seen him do many times. Carol aimed at the walker and shot, just missing. It started coming after her and Daryl tried to take the crossbow from her. "No, I've got this," she said, aiming again and putting a bolt right between the walkers eyes. She lowered the weapon and shoved it at him, then retrieved the bolts and threw them at his feet.

"I still have to piss," he said, turning his back to her and peeing all over the walker she just killed. Carol crossed her arms and watched him. If he wasn't going to be discrete about it she wasn't going to look away. After Daryl zipped himself up he turned around. They shot daggers at each other for a moment before he spoke, still angry, "what do you want from me?"

Carol was ready to let him have it and she didn't hold back. "I want you to stop acting like you don't give a shit about anything or anyone. I know you and I know exactly what's going on in your head right now. Stop pretending that nothing we went through matters. Stop assuming that everyone is dead and not even bother looking just because it's easier to hide somewhere inside yourself and take the blame than actually find out if you're right or not."

"Is that what you think?" he yelled back.

"That's what I know," Carol hissed.

Daryl's eyes flashed, "You don't know nothing."

"I know you look at me and wonder if you could have saved others too. I know you will never forgive yourself for not doing more. But I'm important. I'm important to you. And you don't get to treat me like crap because you feel guilty that I'm the only one you saved." Carol watched his jaw clench as she spoke. "You are afraid to search for them because you're afraid of what we might or might not find."

"I ain't afraid of nothin," he shot back.

"Yes you are," Carol pushed. "Remember Sophia. We went through that together. I know you were terrified you wouldn't find her and you didn't. You're scared the same thing is going to happen again. And God forbid you ever let anyone get close to you, close enough to help."

"You wanna talk about me, but let's talk about you. Those two girls are dead and you haven't even spoke about them once, after those bodies we found. Who is delusional here? Who is afraid?" Daryl stepped closer to her, "Everyone we know is dead. Dead!"

"Daryl, stop," she tried. He was getting really worked up and even though she knew he needed to get it out, she wanted to keep it civil.

"No, they're dead. The governor rolled right up to our gates. Michonne wanted to keep looking for him and I told her it was pointless. Maybe if I hadn't stopped looking. Maybe if I'd helped her. That's on me. I gave up. It's all on me." Finally he was admitting what she knew was going on in his mind, but he was breaking her heart. She reached out to him and he pushed her hand away. "And Hershel… Carl wanted to take a shot at the Governor. I said no… maybe if I'd let him. Maybe I could have done something…" his voice cracked and he broke. Carol knew it had to happen sooner or later, and she was ready for it. She grabbed him and this time he didn't shove her away. He needed the comfort and quite honestly, she needed the comfort of comforting him. Carol wrapped him in her arms like a child and let him cry against her chest. She offered soothing coos, but other than that, said nothing. He just needed a moment to let it out and a moment of comfort from someone else. Carol was glad it was her.

When his sobs finally ended she held him a little longer and he let her. Eventually Daryl looked up and met her eyes. He said everything she needed to hear, I'm sorry, thank you, and I'm glad you're here, with only a look and she understood. She always understood everything he said to her without words.

Carol wasn't sure if it was the tender moment they had just shared or the alcohol increasing her boldness, but she touched his cheek with her uninjured hand. He didn't flinch, just continued to look into her eyes. It was all the invitation Carol needed to lean in and kiss him. When their lips met she shivered. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she had thought about this moment for a long time. Carol never expected it would happen quite like this and for a second she was concerned that maybe she was taking advantage of him in a weak moment. But when he responded immediately she knew the kiss was okay. She felt his arm wrap around her waist and draw her closer. It had been a long time for both of them, but the kiss wasn't the least bit awkward. It felt natural and almost desperate. When their tongues met they groaned in unison and Carol felt her heart rate double. She thread her fingers into his hair, once again ignoring the burn in the palm of her hand.

A distant growling caught their attention and they reluctantly parted. "Better get inside," Daryl said, grabbing his crossbow and gently touching the small of her back in a chivalrous act of urging the lady first. Carol went inside and he followed, taking time to ensure the door was safely latched. She wondered if he was taking a moment to collect himself and was scared he might overthink so Carol went to him and touched his back, urging him to turn. She reengaged the kiss the second he was facing her and they slipped right back into the comfortable, yet urgent, rhythm they were in outside.

Daryl guided her towards the couch and they kissed passionately the entire way. Carol was excited and terrified all at the same time, and she knew Daryl well enough to know he had to be feeling the same way. When they reached the couch she lay down and he hovered over her for a second before finally leaning in and finding her lips again. He held some of his weight off her, but their hips were pressed together and she could feel him, hard. Something stirred inside her with the knowledge of his arousal and her entire body flushed.

She wanted him. And Carol knew he wanted her too, whether it was lust, love or comfort though, she wasn't sure. Carol lifted her hips and wriggled herself against him making Daryl moan into her mouth. She had no idea what caused it, but suddenly he stopped and pulled away. "We shouldn't," he muttered apologetically. She sat up, looking confused and searching for an explanation. "I'm drunk. You're drunk," he began. "I know you've had a drunk man force himself on you far too often. I ain't gonna do that to you. You deserve better than that."

She smiled at his sense of honor. It didn't surprise her that Daryl would put her first. He always did. "You're not forcing anything on me," she said gently. "I want this." Carol looked away, she hated what she was about to say, but he was right. "Maybe tonight isn't the right time. I don't want either of us to feel like we took advantage of the other." Carol gave him a smile. "We have plenty of time. Let's drink. Talk. And see what happens tomorrow."

Daryl nodded and retrieved their mason jars. He handed Carol hers and they toasted. "To the future. And the best fuckin moonshine in Georgia."


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh God," Carol sighed. "I forgot how this feels." They were sitting outside, enjoying the cool night air, still sipping on moonshine.

"You feel sick?" Daryl asked, more with amusement than concern.

"No, I feel great," she giggled.

Daryl smiled at the sound, "you're lucky you're a happy drunk. Some people can be real jerks when they drink." He shot her a sheepish grin and Carol giggled again. She couldn't help herself, alcohol had always made her giddy.

She settled down when he started to talk though. "Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk. Merle had this dealer. This janky little white guy. A tweaker. One day we were over at his house watching TV." Daryl paused and checked to be sure that she seemed interested. "Wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn't let up. Merle never could. Turns out it was the tweaker's kids' favorite show. And he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty about it or something. So he punches Merle in the face." A smile crossed his lips at the memory. "So I started hitting the tweaker, like, hard. As hard as I can. Then he pulls a gun, sticks it right here." Daryl gestured at his temple. "He says, 'I'm gonna kill you, bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yelling. I'm yelling. I thought I was dead. Over a dumb cartoon about a talking dog."

Carol waited a second but when he didn't continue she prodded, "How'd you get out of it?"

Daryl looked up at her, he seemed surprised that she cared but finished the story. "The tweaker punched me in the gut. I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it." He chuckled and Carol followed suit.

When Daryl spoke again his tone was more serious, "You want to know what I was before all this? I was just drifting around with Merle... doing whatever he said we were gonna be doing that day. I was nobody. Nothing. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother."

Carol's response caught him off guard, "I know. I've always known."

Daryl looked confused. "Then why'd you waste your time with me? Right from the start?"

Carol flashed him a brilliant smile. "That's who you were. It was never who you really are." She let her words sink in for a moment. "I could ask you the same question you know? What was I before? A housewife. There's no shame in that, I know, but I had a child to look after and I pushed everyone else away for a man who beat me any chance he got." Carol stared at him, "you knew all that so why did you waste your time with me?" She was asking to prove a point, not because she wanted an answer. She needed him to know that he was every bit as good as her, just like she told him so long ago in reference to Rick and Shane.

"Because I knew you were strong, long before you figured it out." Carol listened as he kept talking. "No one can go through the shit you faced without being strong. You're a survivor Carol. And you make people around you better," he added, looking away shyly.

"We make each other better," she clarified. "I've been alone most of my life, just like you. Emotionally, I mean. I may be a survivor, but I don't ever want to be alone again. Neither do you," she finished, reaching for his hand. "I need you to stay who you are, not who you were. That doesn't matter anymore." Carol gripped his hand a little tighter. "Places like this, you have to put them away."

"What if you can't?" Daryl asked honestly.

"You have to, or it kills you," Carol said sternly. Her voice softened and she quietly added a bit more, "and that would kill me."

"We should go inside," Daryl said, cutting the silence that followed.

"I wish we could burn this place down, bad memories with it," Carol laughed. "But I know we can't, so we're going to use this hell hole for shelter, to survive. And appreciate the fucking irony of it all." The f-bomb caught his attention, and she laughed again. "I guess I have a potty mouth when I'm drunk."

By the time they were settled for the night, Carol on the couch and Daryl in the easy chair, she was exhausted and fell asleep quickly.

In the morning, other than a bit of a headache, she felt surprisingly fine. Hungry, but no real hangover. They packed up anything that looked useful and headed out.

"Why'd you never tell me you could shoot a bow?" Daryl asked as they walked through the woods quietly. "I coulda looked for one for you when I was out."

"I don't know," Carol replied with a shrug. "I guess at first I just figured it was important to learn how to use a gun. And then a knife. And after I got good with both, it just never mattered anymore."

"We should hunt," Daryl said. "Come on, try it again," he offered her the crossbow. "You're a natural," he urged. "'Sides, I like watching a woman who knows how to handle my weapon." Carol wasn't sure if he intended the flirt to sound as dirty as it came out. It wasn't likely, based on the look of shock on his face at his own words, but she was delighted that for once he was the one doing the flirting.

Daryl tapped her shoulder and pointed at a squirrel that had appeared. Carol lifted the crossbow and aimed. He was standing close to her, close enough to whisper in her ear. "Remember your breathing," he said calmly. "From here," Daryl gently touched her core as Carol inhaled. She held her breath and waited for the right moment to squeeze the trigger. Before she got the shot off a noise from behind startled them. Carol turned one way, but Daryl turned the other, catching her foot. She fell, twisting her ankle, but ignored the pain and aimed at the walker as she went down. Her shot went through his mouth and the decaying creature dropped. Finally, Carol released the deep breath.

When she tried to stand pain shot up her leg. It wasn't bad, likely just a mild sprain, but walking unaided was going to be a problem.

"I'm sorry," Daryl apologized, coming to her side immediately. "Can you move it?"

"Yeah," Carol replied, demonstrating. He helped her up and she took a few tentative steps while Daryl retrieved the bolt and slung the crossbow on his back. The next thing she knew she was lifted off her feet and into his arms.

"We gotta find you some damn food, you're way lighter than last time," he teased her as he started to walk.

Carol tried to protest but Daryl wasn't having any of it, so she relaxed to try and make it easier for him. She thought about the "last time" he was referring to and smiled. She didn't remember much due to the dehydration but Carol did remember looking into his eyes and knowing Daryl had saved her life.

They came out of the dark forest into a bright and sunny Georgia day. Carol squinted at the contrast but enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face. They had made their way into a tiny cemetery and Daryl finally set her down for a rest in front of a large grey tombstone. Carol looked to her left and saw two smaller stones side by side. The names seemed to indicate they were likely sisters, one died at the age of 7 and the other was 11. It hit Carol hard, being so close in age to Lizzie and Mika. Her chest hurt and it was suddenly hard to breathe. She still didn't know if they had survived or not, but the reality of the situation was that Carol may never know. She didn't grieve for them as if they were dead, but she did grieve for the fact that she may never see them again.

Daryl caught her gaze and quickly connected the dots. He picked two pretty yellow wildflowers and set one on the top of each gravestone. Carol was touched by his thoughtfulness as she brushed away a single tear. He had been right the night before. She hadn't grieved for them and she needed to. Carol just prayed they were safe, one way or the other.

Daryl reached for her hand, surprising her again. He knew she needed some comfort and linked his fingers through hers to offer it. They stood their silently, paying their respects to the children in the graves they didn't know and two girls Carol had accepted as her own.

Daryl carried her to the porch of a nearby home. They had to make sure it was secure before barging in so Daryl thumped on the door and whistled loudly, to draw any walkers who might be inside. "Give it a minute," he said, listening for any telltale growls.

When they heard nothing Daryl opened the door and Carol followed him inside, knife drawn. "Oh my God," she said in awe. "It's so clean." She scanned the room, unable to believe how neat and tidy it was.

"Yeah," Daryl muttered in response.

"Someone's been tending to it," Carol said, stating the obvious.

"May still be around," Daryl replied, as he surveyed the main floor quickly. When he was confident they were alone he grabbed a chair and had her sit down. "Let's get that ankle wrapped," Daryl said, pulling another roll of gauze out of his pocket. A tensor would have been better but the wide gauze, same as what was on her hand, would do. Carol removed her boot and sock and let him work. It throbbed a bit without the security and support of the boot, but once it was wrapped it would be okay. Daryl knew that Carol had a good deal of experience with sprains in her lifetime, and she realized that he also knew she could have easily tended to herself, which made it all the more special that he was taking care of her. "How's that?" he asked, tying off the gauze.

"A little loose," Carol answered truthfully. He shot her a look but pulled out a roll of tape and made several circles of her foot and ankle, crossing over in spots. When he was done Carol wiggled her foot. "Perfect," she said, gently putting back on her sock and boot.

It still hurt, but she was able to walk on it and she slowly followed as Daryl set out to explore the house. "Woah, looks like someone ran out of dolls to dress up," Daryl said, walking into what was obviously once an embalming room.

Carol looked at the walker laying on the table. It was dressed in clean clothes, and set up perfectly, just as a body would be for a funeral. She immediately got an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She had seen this a bit with Lizzie and it terrified her - people's inability to realize that walkers were no longer human. "We should leave," Carol said, feeling a sense of panic. "Whoever lives here is obviously crazy."

"Completely fucked up," Daryl echoed her sentiments in his own words. "But we need to stay, at least for tonight." She was about to protest. "You need to rest that ankle," he interrupted. "One night. I'll go set up some stuff outside so we know if anyone's coming and we'll secure it from the inside."

Carol didn't doubt his ability to keep her safe, even without the skills she had developed on her own, but the queasiness she got looking at the walker on display was hard to ignore. The second Sophia walked out of that barn, even though as a mother she wanted to run to her, Carol knew it was no longer her little girl. It didn't hurt to watch Rick put her down because it just wasn't Sophia. It was also the reason she wouldn't attend a funeral to bury something she had no connection to. Her own experiences were what made her so terrified for people who obviously didn't get it.

Carol reluctantly agreed. She knew he was right, it was too dangerous to wander around with her ankle the way it was. If they had to run she would be in trouble. "Okay, one night. But first thing in the morning we're outta here. Back on the road, trying to find the others." With one last look at the dead thing on the table she followed Daryl out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

When Daryl returned from outside, satisfied they would be alerted to any people or walkers who tried to approach, he came back in and barred the door from the inside. "No one's getting in," he said confidently.

She nodded, "Good. Let's finish exploring." They wandered around the funeral home, finding the kitchen. "You find anything?" Carol asked as he opened a cupboard.

"Woah, peanut butter and jelly, diet soda and pig's feet. That's a white trash brunch right there," Daryl joked.

"Pigs feet? Are you serious?" Carol hobbled over and went to reach for the jar.

"No. Hold up," Daryl stopped her. "Ain't a speck of dust on this."

"Hmm, you're right," Carol pouted. "Someone must have just put it here."

"Must be someone's stash," Daryl agreed.

"Even more reason for us to get out of here," Carol muttered. "But how about we just take a few things and leave the rest?" she suggested.

Daryl nodded and reached for a jar of peanut butter, opening it quickly and dipping his fingers in for a huge scoop. He transferred the peanut butter to his mouth and Carol felt her stomach growl, "Oh my God that looks so good."

Without thinking Daryl scooped out more and offered it to her, "want some?" Carol only hesitated for a second before taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking off the creamy peanut butter. She closed her eyes groaned, with his fingers still in her mouth, not wanting to leave a speck.

When Carol finally released his hand and opened her eyes Daryl was blushing furiously. She wasn't about to let him get all awkward so Carol dipped her finger into the jar and held it to his mouth. She smiled at him and urged him to eat it. Finally he leaned in and closed his mouth around her finger taking the peanut butter off it as he pulled away. Carol knew she was flirting, hard core, but she also knew he didn't mind. Their relationship had been filled with flirty moments and even when he told her to "stop" there was a sparkle in his eye that was saying, "please don't stop." Carol stuck her finger in for one last scoop. She stared at him while she fed herself from the same finger that had just been in his mouth. "Probably should save some for later, huh?" she asked after swallowing the last of her bite.

Daryl put the lid back on and set the jar on the counter. "Those pig's feet are mine," he said as they started to leave.

"Not a chance," Carol shot back. "I'm willing to share with you though." Daryl shook his head with a smile, obviously surprised she liked pig's feet.

They wandered around some more, slowly exploring each room in turn and finally ended up in a room with caskets on display and a piano in the corner. It was starting to get dark outside and Carol could hear the wind picking up, rattling the cans Daryl had set up. She took a seat at the piano, while Daryl wandered around looking at the coffins. He reached inside one and pushed down as if to check how soft it was. "You're not going to get in there," Carol said.

"I ain't no vampire," Daryl replied. "Just curious if these things are comfortable."

"Do you really think the dead care?" Carol teased him.

Daryl gave her a look. "You just gonna sit there or you gonna play that thing?"

Carol looked at the piano. "Well I most certainly will not be singing, but I might be able to remember how to play something…" she reached for the keys. It all came back to her easily, like riding a bike, even though she hadn't played the piano since before Sophia was born. The song she played was one of the first she'd learned, really simple, but still beautiful. Carol couldn't remember the name of it though. "How did you know I play?" she asked as she finished the song.

Daryl looked at her shyly, "You looked at the piano like it was an old friend." Carol nodded in understanding, it was an old friend, got her through some hard times.

She stood up, "come on, let's go share those pig's feet, I'm starving." She started hobbling out of the room with Daryl following close behind. He was pretty much breathing down her neck. "I'm going as fast as I can," she said, over her shoulder.

"Forget that," Daryl said, sweeping her off her feet like he'd carried her earlier. Carol laughed, knowing he was in a hurry to get to the pig's feet and she was slowing him up. Daryl set her down on a chair in the kitchen and brought over their food. Before they could start eating they heard the cans rattle loudly outside. It wasn't just the wind this time. "Stay," Daryl told her as he went to the front door.

Carol listened and waited somewhat patiently for him to return. She was about to get up when Daryl came back in the room. "Just a damn dog," he said.

"You didn't open the door?" Carol asked.

"Nope, peeked out the window. I promised we would be safe. Door stays shut until we're ready to leave in the morning," he replied, reassuring her.

They ate in silence, sharing the jar equally between their plates. After Carol ate a couple she moved the rest to his plate, knowing he needed more food than she did. Daryl gave her a look, asking if she was sure. "Go ahead. I'll just have a little more peanut butter," she said opening the jar and scooping some.

All of a sudden there was a huge boom of thunder followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the entire kitchen. They were dining by the light of a single candle, but the lightening made it seem like the kitchen lights came on for a second. Carol jumped at the crack of thunder and stood to peek out the window. When the next flash of lightning came she could see several walkers roaming around outside.

"Maybe we should try and get some sleep," Daryl suggested. Carol nodded in agreement and they left the kitchen. They had found a hallway with 3 bedrooms. The beds were all perfectly made, rooms spotless. They stopped at the first one and Carol lit the candles that were set up around the room.

Daryl started to leave. "Wait," she called out. "Would you? I mean, it's a king bed…" Carol's voice trailed off. She was nervous asking him to stay, but she didn't want to be alone. "This place creeps me out, will you stay?" Daryl nodded and she watched as he took off his boots and jacket. Carol did the same and wandered over to the window. "I love watching storms," she said quietly.

Carol didn't even realize Daryl had walked over to join her until she heard his reply from right behind her, "me too."

They stood at the window, side by side, staring outside, watching the lightning show. Carol turned to look at him. She was finally starting to see the old Daryl emerging again and she was both happy and relieved. Daryl hadn't realized she was watching him at first, still mesmerized by the display outside. When he finally turned and met her eyes Carol's breath caught in her chest. The way he was looking at her was filled with such gratitude and admiration. He was thanking her for bringing him back in the best way he knew how, without words.

Carol was scared to breathe and scared to move, but somehow her hand found its way into his and she squeezed it gently, to let him know she understood. They continued to look at each other until finally Carol clued in. He was ready. It didn't usually take her that long to figure him out but it finally hit her that he was waiting for her to make the first move. Carol took a minute to consider whether this had ever happened before and she just missed it, but she was confident that this was the first. It took time and tragedy to get Daryl to the point where he was finally ready to let her in, completely, and give her a part of him he'd guarded his entire life.

Carol inched her lips slowly towards his, giving him plenty of time to change his mind if he wanted to, but Daryl didn't move. He was waiting for her kiss. When their lips met she kissed him tenderly. He met her kiss tentatively at first, in a manner of shyness, not uncertainty. Carol had every confidence that Daryl knew exactly what he was doing. They never talked about his past intimate encounters, but she knew he'd been with women before. Carol wasn't sure if he had ever loved anyone, but she knew that sex was something he definitely knew a thing or two about.

She realized very quickly that his shyness was not a lack of confidence in the physical, but in the uncharted emotional territory they were about to jump into. Daryl knew that it wasn't going to be a quick fuck with her. Once they took this final step they were defining their relationship in a different way. They would no longer be 'just friends.' Carol was ready and she knew that Daryl was too.

Carol parted her lips slightly, her tongue easing out to meet his. They quickly developed an easy and comfortable rhythm as if they had kissed far more than once before. The ease in which the kiss became familiar made Carol feel certain that every part of the encounter to follow would flow just as smoothly. As they continued to kiss Carol started to unbutton his shirt. The only time she had seen his bare chest and back was the time she had took him food at Hershel's farm after Andrea had shot him. But Daryl had quickly covered himself up, obviously embarrassed by the scars on his back. Carol prayed he knew her well enough now not to be self-conscious. She knew he would be beautiful, scars and all.

Carol slid his shirt over his shoulders and pushed it off his arms. She broke the kiss to look at him, tracing his collarbone with her fingertips before running her hands down the front of his chest to his belly. She stepped closer and hugged him, placing her cheek against his shoulder to enjoy the feel of his warm bare skin. She could feel his hands resting on the small of her back and Carol was content to just hold him for a few minutes. She realized there was still a slight chance he might want to stop so she made a point of taking things slow. Carol wanted to ensure there would be no regrets in the morning.

Daryl's hands had crept up under the back of her shirt and he was rubbing small circles on her bare skin. Carol felt her heart thump in response. He stopped rubbing and pushed her back far enough to remove her shirt. Daryl kissed her throat first then started a path downwards, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he sunk to his knees. Carol gasped as he kissed then nipped at the soft skin below her belly button. Daryl knelt before her and Carol looked down at him. He looked up into her eyes and blindly reached for the button on her pants. His fingers worked their magic and the next thing she knew the material was sliding down her legs. Carol helped him by kicking off the pants and her socks with them.

When Daryl rose to his feet she stood before him in only her bra and panties. The hunger in his eyes made her body heat to the core. "Daryl," his name rolled easily off her tongue. She just needed to say it, to hear it and remind herself this moment was real.

"Carol," he whispered back huskily. The sound of her own name in his lust-filled tone made her dizzy and Carol reached for him to gather herself. He was steady and strong, and even though she'd been supporting him lately it was now his turn and he knew it. Daryl lifted her, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist and kissed her again as he made his way to the bed. Carol explored his back, running her hands over the rigid bumps of his scars, but never dwelling in a way that might make him uncomfortable. Her hands ended up tangled in his long hair, pulling him frantically closer as she took the kiss deeper than they ever had before.

She felt herself being eased back onto the bed as Daryl lay her on the soft mattress. Carol sat up slightly and undid the clasp on the back of her bra before laying back down. She would allow him to fully remove it, when he was ready, which happened to be about 2 seconds after she undid it. The air was cool on her exposed nipples but his mouth was warm, hot even, as he sucked on them in turn. Carol sighed and gasped as he went from gentle licking to hard sucking. The pleasure was creating feelings down low that were making her squirm.

Carol found enough focus to reach for his pants and she undid them quickly. Her hand brushed against his erection as she worked to push the pants down from her awkward angle. Daryl helped and finally the pants were off, but she wasn't done. She reached for the waistband on his underwear and tugged. She needed his help and was thankful when Daryl once again gave it. Carol could help but smile at the beautiful sight before her. He was perfect in every way. She touched his cock, wrapping a hand around the hard shaft, and it sent a new wave of heat coursing through her. Carol reminded herself that they were taking it slow when all she wanted was to feel him deep in her.

Daryl grabbed her panties and Carol lifted her hips to allow him to remove the last shred of material between them. "You're beautiful," he mumbled, almost inaudibly in that shy sweet voice she loved so much. Carol realized that neither one of them needed nor wanted another second of foreplay.

She barely recognized her own voice when she spoke, "make love to me Daryl." Carol parted her legs in encouragement and Daryl moved swiftly into place. She bit her lip as he slowly penetrated. He was large, but she was wet, slick and ready to take all of him. When he was completely inside her Carol gripped his forearms, asking for a minute to enjoy the overwhelming feeling of fullness inside her. As her grip eased he slipped part way out slowly, then pushed right back in and paused, creating that same feeling again. The next time he pulled out Carol bucked her hips to meet his thrust on the way back in and Daryl groaned, a strangled "fuck" escaping his lips.

They kept the slow pace for a while, developing a rhythm as she rose to meet him each time. Carol knew she was driving him just as wild as he was making her. It felt better than she could ever have imagined it would, to finally have a man who cared deeply for her, showing her how special she was to him.

"Jesus Daryl, faster, please," Carol begged, unable to deal with the slow painful pace any longer. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and focussed on the rapid steady pounding. It felt incredible as their bodies slapped together, Daryl pushing himself as deep as possible with every quick stroke.

"Oh God Carol, I'm gonna come… Do you want me to…" he groaned. Carol knew he was asking if he should pull out and she answered by wrapping her legs around him and holding him in tight. She was almost there too and as his body shuddered with release it sent her over the edge. Carol threw her head back as strangled cries from deep within escaped her throat. They held each other tight as the waves of pleasure wracked their bodies, sweat glistening on their burning skin.

Finally Daryl collapsed, rolling to the side to avoid crushing her with his weight. When she was able to focus again she sought out his eyes. Carol needed to make sure he was still okay with what just happened. Her heart skipped at beat when he gave her a shy smile. That was all she needed. Carol knew Daryl didn't want to talk about it and they didn't need to. They knew each other too well. And they now knew each other on that final level: intimacy.

Carol stood up to blow out all the candles, then grabbed the blanket from the bottom of the bed. She pulled it over Daryl and kissed him softly on the forehead before climbing back in bed and joining him underneath. Carol listened to the storm rage outside and felt completely calm for the first time in days.


	7. Chapter 7

When Carol woke up the next morning she intended on climbing out of bed and getting dressed while Daryl slept. She wanted to spare him any of the morning after awkwardness that he might be feeling. Carol didn't feel like there was anything they needed to talk about. What happened the night before was a natural progression in their relationship and she was perfectly comfortable with it. She worried that Daryl might wake up and freak out a bit, which was why she wanted to spare him by being up and dressed.

Nothing went the way she planned at all. When she went to get out of bed Daryl reached for her and pulled her back in, snuggling against her. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Carol was surprised and turned to face him. "Yeah, of course," she smiled.

"Oh good," Daryl said. "I just didn't want to get up and act like nothing happened, ya know?"

Carol couldn't believe what she was hearing but she was very pleased and proud of him. "Well I hope it's going to happen again sometime," Carol replied. She was flirting in an attempt to keep the conversation light.

"Like right now?" Daryl asked, flirting back. Carol wasn't used to that either, but it was nice.

"I wish we could," Carol started. "But we really should get up and get moving." She did want to make love to him again, but she didn't want to come across to eager. He played right into her plan thought.

"It won't take long," he mumbled, seeking out her lips. He wasn't taking no for an answer and Carol gave in, easily. She couldn't believe that it was even better than their first time but their comfort level with each other had increased dramatically. Plus, the first time jitters were gone and the fact that neither had made love in years wasn't in play anymore. It made their second encounter all the more amazing and when it was over Carol couldn't help but wonder what the third time would bring.

If there weren't so many good reasons to get out of the house Carol might have had a hard time leaving. It was warm, clean, secure and filled with supplies. But their friends were still out there somewhere and she was terrified that the disturbed individual that owned the house might return.

They gathered up a few things to eat and headed out. Carol considered leaving a thank you note, but decided it was pointless. The owner was either going to be thankful they didn't loot everything or mad they had taken even one item. A note wasn't going to make a difference, especially to someone who was obviously mentally unstable and out of touch with the reality of the world they lived in. She considered the fact that perhaps they hadn't even taken enough to be noticed, but from the look of the place, everything neat, in order, lined up in perfect rows… whoever was there before them likely suffered from some level of OCD. They would notice anything even slightly out of order, like Kathy Bates character in Misery. Carol was just glad they wouldn't be around to suffer their punishment.

Once they disappeared back into the forest Daryl started watching for game. They got really lucky and he shot 2 rabbits. They were able to stop for a while, make a fire, and enjoy a delicious meal of roasted rabbit. The bunnies were small, but there was enough meat to satisfy their hunger for a while.

After putting out the fire they headed off again. Carol stopped for a minute to rest her shoulders from the heavy bag she was carrying. She set it down on the ground and noticed something. "Daryl, come here," she said excitedly. "Is this…"

"A fresh track," he finished with a proud smile. He started searching around a little more thoroughly and soon he found exactly what they had been looking for all day. A trail to follow. "I think there are at least 3 people," he muttered. "But it's almost as if there were two groups that came through here," Daryl said, bending down to point something out. "See how there seem to be three sets of prints walking side by side? And then they're trampled over by other prints?"

Carol tried to see what he was seeing, but she didn't understand. She pretended she understood and urged him on. "Yup."

"Well it could just be that there are others following behind, but my gut tells me there are two groups here," Daryl finished.

Carol was excited, "I wonder if some of the others have already found each other now?"

"Maybe," Daryl said. "Let's keep going before it gets too dark and I can't see the tracks anymore."

They kept walking. Dusk was quickly approaching, but there was still enough light for Daryl to find what he was looking for. Suddenly he stopped and turned to her, holding and hand up first, then a finger to his lips. Carol froze and kept quiet. Daryl motioned for her to come to him and she quietly crept to his side. He pointed through the trees and she could see a man standing there with a bow and arrow, and it looked like he was standing guard.

They heard voices, which sounded like they were fighting. One of them was familiar and Carol looked at him wide eyed, "Rick," she mouthed and Daryl nodded in confirmation. They needed to get closer to see what was going on, but the archer on guard had to be taken care of first. It was clear from the sound of the voices and the escalating arguing that Rick was in trouble. Daryl lifted the crossbow and aimed. The bolt took the guard right through the head and he dropped. Daryl took off towards him and Carol followed.

From their new position they could see Rick and Michonne surrounded by a group of strange men. One of them had his arm around Michonne's neck with a gun to her head. Another had a rifle aimed at Rick and they were yelling.

Daryl picked up the bow the man had dropped when he fell and handed it to her. Carol smiled, it felt good in her hands. It was a compound hunting bow. She'd never shot one before, but knew it was the same concept as what she'd used before. Daryl yanked the quiver off the limp body and handed it to her was well. She understood the plan. The only way to save both Rick and Michonne was a surprise attack. They both needed to shoot at the same time and take town the men who had their friends hostage. Once they were free there would be utter chaos and they could only hope they could take down the others without them or Rick and Michonne getting hurt.

Carol pulled out an arrow and got it ready when Daryl reloaded. He stepped close and whispered in her ear, "I'll take the guy holding Michonne, you get the one with the gun on Rick. If you miss, keep shooting and I'll try to back you." She nodded, but she wouldn't miss. Rick's life depended on her shot and she would make it sure and true. "On my nod," he whispered before moving into place.

Carol sucked in a breath, drew the arrow and aimed. When she saw Daryl nod in her peripheral vision she released. She didn't miss, but the arrow went through the man's shoulder. It wasn't a kill shot, but she wounded him. Rick sprang into action the second he realized what was going on.

Carol and Daryl started to run, pulling out their knives to jump into the fight. "Carl," Rick yelled, gesturing wildly. Carol spotted him, on the ground with a large man on top of him. She thought she was going to vomit when she realized what was going on. She hoped she wasn't too late as she ran full tilt and threw a shoulder into the man while stabbing him at the same time. He grunted and screamed as her knife plunged into the back of his neck. Carol pulled it out and stabbed him again, just to be sure, right through the temple. She had no idea what was going on with the others, but Carol knew she had got there in time. The man hadn't succeeded in raping Carl, he hadn't even managed to get his pants down in the struggle. Carol breathed a sigh of relief. Before she could move to him Rick came running over and pulled Carl into a hug. He looked at Carol and his eyes said more of a thank you than words ever could.

Michonne and Daryl had finished off the man Carol dropped and the two others. It was just the 5 of them left, all the strangers were dead. Carol dropped to the ground. The adrenaline was fading and she felt exhausted. But she was happy, very happy. She watched in silence as Daryl gave Michonne a hug. She was so proud of how far he had come, that he was able to give a friend a hug so easily.

Carol took a breath and stood up. Carl was still shook up, so Michonne took over comforting him and Rick came to her. He wrapped Carol in a hug and whispered thank you in her ear. Daryl had wandered over as Rick released her and the men looked at each other. "You look like shit," Daryl said to him, referring to the blood and bruises all over Rick's face from the fight and the faded bruises likely left from the prison attack.

"Come here, asshole," Rick said, reaching out a hand to Daryl. Carol watched as they did one of those man hugs, while shaking hands. It's a start, she thought to herself with a smile.

After Carl was feeling better and they had all had a chance to share a few words, more hugs, and general reunion celebrations, they decided to find somewhere else to camp for the night. Before leaving they gathered all the weapons and supplies they could scavenge from the dead men and made sure they were all stabbed in the head to prevent them turning.

They walked for a bit and found a spot to sleep by the side of the train tracks. There was a sign announcing a place called "Terminus" offering sanctuary. There were maps, but basically they just had to follow the tracks. The decided as a group that if the others saw the same signs they might head there too.

While they were setting up camp Carol watched Daryl. There was an even more remarkable change in him than she had seen the day before. He caught her eye and smiled at her. Carol was pretty sure it was the closest thing she was going to get to him admitting she was right all along. She wasn't one to say "I told you so" anyway, so she would accept it gladly. She was still confident they would find others as well, but just the fact they had found part of their family was truly the spark Daryl needed. Her Daryl was back, completely back.

Carol offered to take the first watch with Rick and they chatted a bit. "I was worried that Daryl might have shut down," Rick said to her. "But he seemed surprisingly okay…"

"He wasn't," Carol replied. "But luckily I was there to do damage control."

Rick laughed. "Thank God it was you," he added more seriously. "If it was anyone else…" his voice trailed off and his words hung in the air as they silently kept watch.


End file.
